Seriously Hexed

by Tina Connolly

  “Oh, and I’m so sure you’re skilled with making deals with demons now,” said Lily.

  I would have expected the sarcasm from Sarmine, but not from Lily. I bit back tears.

  Lily rose to her feet and looked down at Poppy. Poppy stared mutinously back. “Give me your wand.”

  “No.”

  “I had this under control,” said Lily, “and you have wrecked it.”

  There were angry tears in Poppy’s eyes. She pulled the wand out of her bag and set it in Lily’s hand.

  Lily turned to me. “Your wand, please.”

  I passed it over, too petrified to do anything else. Angry witches would do anything to you.

  “I don’t have the authority to take yours,” she said. “Sarmine would have my head if I did. But I’m locking it so my daughter can’t use it.” She made some passes over it with her own wand and handed it back to me. Poppy looked about ready to lose it at this new indignity. She looked like she was barely keeping it together.

  “And now we’re all going to bed,” said Lily. “You have school in the morning. That is the only thing you should be worrying about.”

  I glanced at Poppy. School was so far down my list of worries, I doubted it would even make the top ten.

  Lily made up the couch in the living room for Pink, and I carried Wulfie up the stairs to his dog bed. Poppy didn’t say a word. But I felt her shoulders shaking silently with tears well after she was supposed to be asleep.

  * * *

  The alarm went off—too early, as usual—and I shook Poppy’s shoulder gently.

  “Not going,” she said.

  “You have to go,” I said. “You have that calculus quiz. And you—you like school. You want to get into Larkspur.”

  She rolled over and looked at me despairingly. “I can’t do anything without my wand. I’m helpless.”

  “You don’t need a wand to take calculus,” I said. “Unless that’s how you manage to remember all those derivative thingies.”

  It was a measure of Poppy’s despair that she didn’t even shoot me a dirty look for my feeble joke. “Of course not,” she said. “But don’t you see? With the wand I can protect myself from anything. If there were—oh, I don’t know—an earthquake, a disaster, a car crash, even if I just forget my lunch, I have my wand, my ingredients, and my database of spells. I am always prepared. I can cope.”

  “Probably none of those things will happen today?” I said. “Anyway, I need your help. We need to corner Devon and get him to return to the pentagram and stop hexing people.”

  “You want me to go near a demon without my wand?” said Poppy. “Look, Cam, I can’t protect my mother, I can’t protect you, and I can’t even protect me. I’m useless.”

  I stood up. “Poppy Jones, you are not useless,” I said. “Now, you get out of that bed and quiz me on American history. I’m not going to be behind any longer.”

  It was the first smile I’d seen from her since Lily took her wand. It disappeared again right away. But she did get out of bed.

  I went to pull my phone off the charger and found a missed call.

  Poppy said, “Did you get a call from Sparkle too?”

  Of course. Her hex was not due till noon today, but the demon was loose and the hexes had sped up. Hearts pounding, we listened to our voice mails. Sparkle sounded almost … excited?

  “We were wrong about the hexes,” Sparkle said in my message. “It wasn’t the worst thing you’ve ever done! Because I didn’t get food poisoning, or the mumps, or break all my toes!” I shuddered. “I lost one fingernail. The littlest one. Pulled right on out.”

  And you’re excited by that? I thought.

  “Cam, I know who I did that to,” the recording continued. “I did that to a shifter, before I knew better, back when I was Kari. And I remember hearing who Esmerelda did that old and ugly curse to; I just didn’t put it together before. She did it to a mermaid who wouldn’t give her the scales she needed. The curse is only targeting the worst thing you did to a Sentient Magical. Poppy’s mom is going to be fine.”

  I turned to Poppy, whose face was lighting with hope. “Your mom is going to be fine.”

  “My mom is going to be fine.”

  “Let’s go tell her.”

  We raced to her bedroom in our PJ’s (well, PJ’s for Poppy, good old Newt Nibbles for me) and told Lily. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in her bathrobe, lost in worried thought. At our news, her face cleared in relief. “You’re right,” she said. “I know you’re right. Because the curse that Valda did? That was to a shifter, a long time ago.” She swept us into a hug. “Oh, girls.”

  Poppy turned to me. “And then, you’ll be fine too,” she said. “No backfiring hexes for you. You’ve never done anything to a Sentient Magical.”

  “Mm, love potion,” I said. “But I asked him first, so hopefully that doesn’t count.”

  “Wait, what?” said Poppy.

  “Long story,” I said. “But what about Rimelda? She said she never did anything to a Sentient Magical. Do you think she was lying to us?”

  Poppy frowned for a second. Then she snapped her fingers. “She said she tried to hide her werewolf boyfriend. So maybe we were just seeing her get hid.”

  “That’s possible,” I said.

  “Werewolf boyfriend?” said Lily

  “Long story,” we chorused.

  “But look, if it’s specifically targeting the worst thing we did to a Sentient Magical, then isn’t it likely that someone on our side started the hexes?” said Lily. “I thought you said the demon pointed a finger at Malkin, Ingrid, Ulrich, and Claudette?”

  I thought back to his exact words. “Technically, he only said they put him in the lamp,” I admitted. “Not that they had come up with this hex.”

  “So who else is there?” said Poppy. “Someone outside the coven?”

  I whirled. “Wait a minute. You’re outside the coven.”

  “True,” said Poppy.

  “So you won’t get hexed. You said at the beginning not to trust you. That you needed a grand magical working to get into Larkspur.” My accusation was joking, of course. Mostly.

  Poppy snorted. “So I’m Moriarty now? An evil genius who’s been playing you while quizzing you on American history and feeding you frozen pizza?”

  “I guess not.” I wrinkled my nose. “Darn it.”

  “Not that I wouldn’t like having this on my application for Larkspur,” Poppy admitted.

  “See? And it would fit all the facts so nicely. The bad guy is always someone who’s been there all along, you know. Someone you’d least suspect.”

  Lily held up her hands. “I didn’t do it either.”

  “Darn it again.”

  “I’ve got it,” said Poppy. “You did it.”

  “No.”

  “You and Sarmine?”

  “No.”

  “You, Sarmine, and a partridge in a pear tree?”

  “Oh, I know,” I said. “Wulfie did it.”

  “On the full moon he turns into a criminal mastermind,” said Poppy.

  I laughed, then sighed. “We may not be able to solve this case before the hexes are done,” I said. “But I still have to plan how to rescue my mother. The demon said he took her somewhere and he can take me, too. If I meet the right conditions, whatever they are. What?”

  Lily was shaking her head. “I can’t let you do that, Cam. You know it’s a trap.”

  “Maybe so,” I said. “But it’s the only lead I’ve got.”

  “Now look,” said Lily. “I definitely have never done anything to a Sentient Magical—not hiding them, not exploding their house, nothing. Therefore—”

  “Are you sure?” interrupted Poppy in a small voice.

  “What?”

  “We found out how Bigfoot claws are gathered. Did you know?”

  Lily was silent for a moment. Then: “I did know.”

  Poppy’s face looked crushed. I completely understood. I dealt on a regular basis with the
fact that my mother had different ethics than I did. At least I was used to it.

  “No one knew about that particular use for a long time,” said Lily, “So the Bigfoots had been mostly flying under the radar. But about the time everything exploded, thirteen years ago, and everyone stopped talking to each other is when Claudette started transporting everywhere. Slowly, the secret leaked to a few people, though it’s still not common knowledge. A few years ago, the New England Coven led a raid on a particularly nasty witch back East and dewanded her, confiscated her ingredients. Jonquil was part of that. She sent the bag of Bigfoot claws on to me—she didn’t want them. I didn’t want them either, but…”

  “You thought they might come in handy,” I said. “And the damage had already been done.”

  “I wasn’t going to buy any more,” said Lily. “You know that.”

  Poppy nodded. “I believe you.”

  Lily glanced at her daughter. “But you would have chosen differently?”

  Poppy shook her head. “I … don’t know. I guess I have to think about it.”

  There was silence for a moment as we all wished there were easy answers to things.

  Lily rubbed the bridge of her nose, where the glasses sat. “Let’s return to the demon problem. It appears that I’m going to be around at the end of these hexes, and they’re almost done. So whatever conditions the demon has for me, I’ll meet them, and I will go rescue Sarmine. I have the experience and knowledge. I won’t be walking in cold.”

  I admit, there was a feeling of relief at that, deep inside. The adults would handle it after all. Lily was going to be fine, and she would go fetch my mother. Poppy and I could go to school and worry about calculus and American history and who we were going to sit with at the lunch table. Maybe witches and nonwitches could share the same concerns after all.

  “Now hurry and get ready for school, kids,” Lily said. “I’ll watch Wulfie and Primella. Poppy, a brief word.…”

  I hurried back to Poppy’s room and got dressed. Poppy came in a few minutes later, a funny expression on her face. “She gave me this,” she said. She held up a gilded scroll. It read:

  Be it Known that Poppy Jones is Hereby Entrusted with my Voting Rights to the Cascadia Coven.

  Signed, Lily Jones

  “It’s a voting proxy,” Poppy said. “Like Sparkle gave to her father to keep during the time she had amnesia. If something happened to Mom, I would be able to take her place in the coven until she returns.”

  “She does trust you,” I said.

  “As a last resort,” Poppy said. Still, she held the proxy gently, like it was a fragile, beating heart.

  * * *

  For a change, we arrived at school with plenty of time. We locked our bikes to the rack. But Poppy didn’t hurry away from me, hailing some friend and putting distance between us. She fell in beside me. “Where’s your locker?” she said.

  I told her, wondering at this strange new small talk.

  “Ah,” she said. “Mine’s in the other wing.”

  That was the extent of our conversational abilities, apparently. We were out of context, and our other relationship didn’t make sense here. I didn’t know what else to say, and I didn’t want to scare her off, so I held my tongue rather than say something dumb. We walked in silence to the center of the school, where we split off. “If you want, you can join me at lunch,” she said.

  “Oh!” I said. “I might,” I said.

  “If you want,” she said.

  “Sure,” I said.

  I found Jenah at our locker. The relief of having Lily back to solve things loosened my tongue. “Oh man, I have everything to tell you,” I said. “You gather a posse for a few days and my whole life changes. But first, thank you for Sam’s address.”

  “Oh, good,” said Jenah. “Did you and Poppy go stop that Claudette person?”

  I shuddered. “No, of course not,” I said. “We just needed to ask Sam some questions.”

  “Oh,” said Jenah. She seemed to be disappointed in that answer, but I couldn’t help that. What could I do against Claudette?

  “So, uh. How are things with you?” I said.

  “I do have gossip,” she admitted. “I spent all last night—when I wasn’t coordinating Kit Kats—on social media.”

  “And?”

  “You’ll never guess whose videos finally took off.”

  “You?”

  “Devon.”

  “Devon.”

  “Devon.”

  “And these are, what, those music videos, or…?”

  “They were music videos. Just him and his guitar.”

  “And now?”

  “They’re still that.”

  “But.”

  “But now he’s naked.”

  My screeched “What?” went through the roof.

  “Calm down. He’s got a guitar, you know.”

  “Strategically positioned.”

  “Exactly.”

  I took a deep breath. The demon was going to have a lot to answer for. “And I take it this has increased his points or hits or whatever it is you get on the Internet?”

  “Through the roof. Thousands of shares. Millions of views. He has spiked.”

  “Spiked.”

  “He is on it. He is a rocket. He is a national treasure. He is stratosphere.”

  This was too much to deal with. Besides, I could barely imagine it. I mean, I was trying not to imagine it. My face was red. “But that’s—Guys in the buff. Generally looks silly.”

  “Oh, well, he’s not in the buff in all of them. That was just the one, for effect. To get the point across. The rest he’s merely shirtless.”

  “Ah.”

  “Pair of jeans.”

  “Okay.”

  “Singing protest songs.”

  “You can stop there.”

  “The buff one was in the shower, so sometimes there’s a towel.”

  “Just stop.”

  “And he’s kind of laughing at himself, you know, which makes it even better—”

  “Oh. My. God.” I buried my face in my hands. Why hadn’t I seen that this demon was equally interested in world domination—just in a different way?

  “So,” said Jenah. “I take it there was something you wanted to tell me?”

  “I,” I said, “am going to completely give up on relationships and become a nun.”

  “A nun.”

  “A witch nun.”

  “I don’t think they have—”

  “I’ll invent them, then. A whole nun house—”

  “Nunnery.”

  “And no boys. I’m done with them.”

  Jenah grinned. “I’ll come join you. Sounds relaxing.”

  “Relationships are the worst.”

  “The worst.”

  I sighed and scrubbed my fingers through my hair. “Walk with me and I’ll tell you my list of current woes.”

  “Woe away.”

  It was about this time that I looked at Jenah, really looked at her. “What are you wearing?”

  “My old ballerina costume from Swan Lake,” she said.

  “Aren’t you going to get dress coded for that?”

  “We’re going bigger today,” she said. “All the Kit Kat kids. Can they really dress code all of us?”

  “Jenah,” I said. “They can and they will. Do you want to get suspended over a tutu?”

  Jenah’s face flashed with that righteous anger I had seen in the principal’s office. But this time it was directed at me. “It’s not just a tutu. I expected you of all people to understand.”

  I took a step backwards. “I do … I mean, I don’t not understand, that is.…” I floundered.

  “This is bigger than me,” said Jenah. “When there is evil going on in the world, you have to stand up to it. You have to face it down. You are the one who has to make a difference.”

  “Now wait a minute,” I said. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you about my week, because you’ve had all those Kit Kats a
round, and my week has been way more dangerous and eviler than yours.”

  Jenah turned up her nose. “It is not a competition.”

  “Poppy and I have had to deal with witches and hexes and, and … and you are having a grand old time running about in fluffy skirts.…”

  “I have been trying to help with your problems,” she pointed out. “You wouldn’t let me.”

  “Trying to protect you, and the others—”

  “Which doesn’t change that I am working for justice in the small corner of the world I’ve got. What are you doing to make things better? Are you helping Sam? You actually have power. What are you doing with it?”

  From down the hall, a melody caught my attention. Singing.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Jenah said coldly. “I have to go link arms and sing ‘We Shall Overcome’ now.” She pushed past me toward the principal’s office, and I stood there in the hallway.

  It was totally unfair of her to criticize me while I was down. I didn’t care what she said; my problems were way worse. And I was trying to deal with them. Why else had I been running around all week?

  You were awfully happy to let Lily take over, a small voice said.

  I was relieved, I told the small voice. And couldn’t I be relieved when the adults were helping out? That’s what adults were for.

  Jenah did not make it to Algebra. Either the protesters were still singing or they were getting called on the carpet, one by one. The Devon/Hudzeth body was not there either. Were they busy hexing Lily? She was next. And what would the hex look like, if she’d never done anything to a Sentient Magical? Would it fizzle out in front of her?

  My thoughts returned to Jenah and her accusation. What kind of action did she expect me to take? I admit, my brain was not super present in first-hour Algebra, or second-hour French, or third-hour English, by which time the wild Kit Kat rumors (All the cast was protesting! Naked! On the roof!) had been replaced by even wilder rumors about a certain young man whose music video “Take the First Step” was going viral.

  During a particularly auspicious moment, when Mr. Kapoor was busy reciting from some script about someone named Mr. Smith going to Washington or something, my phone went off. It was from Poppy. Why would Poppy be texting me?

  Before I could find out, I looked up to see Mr. Kapoor staring at me with an expression of disbelief. Mr. Kapoor loved his plays. He’d sneaked a lot of them into the curriculum. Reluctantly, I handed the phone over to him and tried to listen to him declaiming. The phone buzzed four more times, and every time he stopped and looked at me while the class giggled. I was so not used to getting texts that it hadn’t occurred to me to turn my phone to “silent.”